Layovers and Prayers
William and I were hanging out at the Denver airport, biding our time during another multi-hour layover. He held my fingers and walked around, exploring the seats, giving out little excited cries now and again. The biggest cry, however, came when he spotted another little boy also exploring the seats with his mother.
I'd seen her earlier walking around the terminal. She was about my age, probably, and was also playing single mom for the time being. That looked to be where the similarities ended, though.
Her long blonde hair was in dreadlocks, her clothing was more on the free-spirited (and decidedly braless) side, and her stroller was loaded down with baby things. In comparison to my plain jeans, t-shirt and umbrella stroller with one bag, we didn't seem to have much in common.
When our little boys caught sight of each other, however, our meeting was inevitable. I walked William over, and the mother and I talked a bit, swapping baby stories and travel plans, commiserating over delays. She was very nice. The boys were still too young to play together, but they enjoyed grinning and just looking at each other. Her little boy was Sage, and he was just a few months older than William.
Sage crawled around on the floor, William walked around, clinging to my hands. Both of us mothers were waiting (im)patiently for our delayed flights to board, trying to keep our little ones happy and quiet.
Nothing groundbreaking happened; we didn't become sudden, fast friends. We never even exchanged our own names. We simply shared the same space with the same story for a little while with our little boys.
It's amazing what doors will open when you have a child.
I never would have talked to this equally tired, traveling young lady if our babies hadn't wanted to meet. I would have kept a certain image in my head of how I imagined she must be as a person without anything concrete on which to base my opinion. Probably whatever I would have thought would have been false—because I forgot she, like me, and you, was a precious creation of God.
Now I am afraid I have to say something a lot of people won't like, but not everyone is a child of God. Even though he loves what he created, it is only those who believe in him who will be saved and who are thus children of God (John 1:12-13, Galatians 3:26, 1 John 3:10).
Romans 8:14-16 also says those with the Spirit of God are sons of God and that we can call God “Abba”—the Aramaic equivalent of “Daddy.” How cool is that? Calling our great and wonderful Father in heaven a name as familiar as Daddy!
It hurts to think some do not realize God loves them, sent his Son for them, and wants them to come running back to him (Hosea 6:1, Joel 2:12-13, 2 Corinthians 7:9-10). It's up to us share His love with those who don't know him. He loves us and wants all to be saved (1 Timothy 2:3-4).
So what can we do?
Live our faith as an example for others.
Point someone towards God's saving Word.
Do something as simple as help someone in need with groceries, children, moving, etc.
Be a sympathetic ear.
Could I have more openly shared God's love with the girl at the airport? Maybe. Our paths crossed but briefly; but I can certainly pray for her that she may someday know the joy and life there is in Christ (Philippians 1:9-11)
You never know who God might put you in line to bless!